Breakfast Of Champions

     In my world, there are two kinds of people, those who eat breakfast and the sorry sacks who don't. Now,  I can already hear the screams all the way up here on top of old Kepler Mountain. "But I don't have time for breakfast, I got to go to work" Well stop the presses!!! Get that Action News Van here stat! People have to get up and  go to work in the morning? Where is the damn liberal media for a story like this?
     Yes boys and girls, believe it or not, at several times in my life, I had to work for the man (or woman) and punch the clock. I first punched the one by my bed and then later I would punch the one at work. It sucked. No, really it did. I wouldn't lie to you. But I still managed to get my lazy, sometimes drunken ass out of bed and make myself some breakfast. And by breakfast, I don't mean some nasty ass microwave sandwiches or just as nasty fast food crap. Real food baby, pancakes, waffles, eggs etc. Stuff to make your body go yum. Well tomorrow you can make your body go yum along with your friendly liver, when my good friend Mr. Sunflower himself, cooks a beer breakfast at the Sly Fox in Phoenixville in honor of their 17th Anniversary. To say it will be one of the best breakfast's you will ever eat would be an understatement. That you get the chance to add Sly Fox beer to it, priceless.

A Ticket A Tasket, My Delivery Basket

     Yesterday was day one of the delivery of tickets and posters to my fine friends in the beer biz. My day started off with my semi usual trip to the Phoenixville Farmers Market to buy some lovely fruit goodies such as blueberries, raspberries, blackberries and a couple of peaches. They also had a hummus stand from Lancaster area called Freshapeel Hummus. I got the chipotle lime flavor and a sampler taste later at home (half the container) confirmed to me that this was some damn tasty stuff. Just start making it in 5 gallon sized tubs and call it a day. Oh wait, they do. Maybe they need a trip to a beer fest....

     After the stuffing of the envelopes, I grabbed the posters and headed to the first stop of the day, Ye Olde Craft Ale House. It was there where I met my co pilot for the day, no not God, just my friend Dunny. We refrained from beer just this one time as we had some type of schedule to keep. Next stop was Capone's in East Norrition where we ran into several troublemakers from Victory, TNSC members and future baby daddy. One quick Blind Pig, which by the way really didn't taste all that piggly and we were on the road to Tj's. Jeff wasn't there because he was out with his high priced other girl, but the lovely T was there to help us out. We snuck in a couple of beers and a bite to eat and then hit the road to Union Jacks. One beer inside with some fine folks I haven't seen in awhile from the old Northside days. And one beer at outside bar to wake up from all the AC and lack of sleep I had from the night before. It was then back to the CAH for one last beer and a small bite before I drove my sorry tired ass home to relax and watch the the movie The Town and the Phillie's whoop on the Pirates.

Today I will make my way to the Drafting Room and Sly Fox Phoenixville for ticket day part two. It will not be as long as yesterday, that's for sure. The real world is calling me and I don't mean the tv series.

Those Hazy, Lazy, Crazy Days Of....Spring?

There is an old song that goes, "It's 98 degrees in the shade", oh wait, scratch that song, cause there ain't enough leaves on the trees to make that valuable commodity yet. Spring in the lovely Delaware Valley as we all know is a lost cause. We do manage a few nice days here and there, but mostly we jump right into AC weather by May, which in turns follows a cold snap around Mothers Day or worse yet, Memorial Day. Hell, if you can't complain about the weather, what else are you going to complain about?

Well, no bitching here about this weekends fine event at the old Sly Fox. It's goat race time on Sunday and I thought I would tell you all about it. 367 goats, 11,243 people, 1900 port-a-pottas, 2 metric tons of German style food and last but not least, 1.6 million gallons of beer. Oh and don't forget the DUI checkpoint if you try and walk into the pizza place next door to the Fox. This year for the first time ever, three magical things will happen. Number one is all goats will be tested for performance enhancing drugs. Number two is the winning goat as always, will have this year's bock named after it. But, it will also be milked and have a goat cheese name after it too. Last is one that is sure to stir up some controversy, as the goat that ends up in last place will be slaughtered and eaten later that night. The hide however will be sown back together and used as a firkin for next years race. Now that sounds like some fun! I wondered how they will get the beer out? The possibilities are endless.

If that doesn't sound like a winning Sunday afternoon than I don't know what is. Hope to see you there!

April Showers Bring May Goat Races

Rain, rain go away, I can't swim the breaststroke another day. Or any other stroke for that matter. Friday brought some biblical style rain down in my travels and by the time the Incubus crowd was a gathering that night at the Fox, I was still at home getting dried out. But then the rain took a break and instead of the Fox, we drove over the rising river and into the woods to Tom's place for a bite to eat and a couple of brews. It was a Blue Point Brewery promo with a cask of Hoptical Illusion. I am not a huge fun of any of their beers per say, but I always like their stuff when it is cask condition. So I wasn't disappointed with this. The Illusion is a beer I could drink several of on a handpump, and a couple out of a firkin. On tap, nada, zilch. Seems a lot of other people feel the same way. It wasn't much longer before the royal couple of Douglasville stopped in for their nightly drinking binge. After some very important shooting of the shit, which included the happy couple saying they probably wouldn't show up on Saturday afternoon at TJ's, we went our merry ways.



Saturday afternoon brought Mr. Steve and myself to the main line empire of TJ's. The bar area was surprising quiet for 3:30, except for Jack Curtin's bff, Woody Chandler. What can one say about the man who eventually sat at the bar and signed all the Ale Street News copies on his by-line. I think I just said it all. We started off with the Bear Republic Racer 5 on the Handpump which was quite nice. We weren't even half done when guess who shows up? Those crazy kids from Douglasville. You just can't keep us suburban hicks down for long. That led us to our next choice, an Allagash Interlude. Can we just come out and say it now? Allagash is one of the top ten breweries in the USA. Nuff said. By now the bar area was starting to fill up with some mighty fine folks, like West Chester's very own, the Hollands. We then enjoyed a small snack and I had a Hoppin Frog Mean Manalishi, which was actually pretty mean. It tasted like it had around 12% instead of the 8% it had.

So, Mr. Steve and I paid our bill and said our goodbyes and jumped into the Rubeomobile and headed back to the cozy confines of suburbia to get ready for our Portland/Seattle planning meeting. Another fine day in the books if I have to say so myself.

Ladies And Gentleman, Start Your Livers!

It is finally here, Philly Beer Week 2009. I along with Mr. Rubeo will be in attendance at the Standard Tap at 5 pm, as we watch Mr. Sly Fox himself, Brian O'Reilly, try not to miss tapping the first cask of Standard Ale with the Hammer Of Glory and end up smashing something behind the bar instead. Then at 6 pm, we are off to the Opening Tap at the Comcast Center as volunteers for the night. We shall be dressed all in black to look somewhat professional, (even though my little black dress is being cleaned.) though I really see no hope in any color that we would ever wear. Hope to see you there!